


Lunch with Larry

by Fluffyllama (Llama)



Category: Numb3rs
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-28
Updated: 2011-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:06:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llama/pseuds/Fluffyllama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing about not technically living at the Eppes house, Don thought, was that you couldn’t really object to other lunchtime drop-ins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lunch with Larry

**Author's Note:**

> All fics for this challenge are set in the same universe unless otherwise stated, but should each stand alone just as well.

The thing about not technically living at the Eppes house, Don thought, was that you couldn’t really object to other lunchtime drop-ins. It simply wasn’t his business any more who came and went in the place, as long as nobody was taking advantage.

He hadn’t had chance to object this time in any case, not least because he was too tuned into Radio Charlie to realise that the approaching voice was part of a conversation until Alan passed him another set of cutlery. _Then_ he heard the second set of footsteps.

Oh yeah, crack F.B.I. agent here, everyone can sleep soundly in their beds tonight.

“But Charles, have you considered the effect of—” Larry stopped, hands still describing some nebulous shape in the air as he entered the kitchen. “Don, and Mr Eppes, good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too, Larry.” Don put the bread rolls down and set another place at the table, and Alan put his good host face on.

“So, you helping Donny on another case, Charlie, or is this—”

“No, no.” Larry shook his head, not waiting for Charlie to answer, or even for Alan to finish. “I was simply passing on to Charles here the results of my observations on certain… perturbing phenomena.”

“Oh. Well, that’s—” Alan was floundering, and nobody was throwing him a line, Larry just nodding as if his meaning was perfectly clear.

“He means women,” Charlie said, and Don could see him trying not to smile too much behind his roll. No wonder, if Larry was sharing the benefits of his vast experience, all picked up in two months of dating Professor whatever-her-name was.

“Perturbing, huh? That’s one word, all right.”

Don smiled, because yeah, Dad’s dates were still more comedy than romance. At least they weren’t likely to feature on a Jerry Springer special though, so that was a step up from Don.

Larry just laughed, in that odd way that always made Don and Charlie exchange glances, but Charlie didn’t look Don’s way this time. “All I was saying, is there seems to be some empirical evidence to suggest women are more easily attracted to unavailable males.”

“Or – what was it?” Charlie frowned. “Oh, sexually satisfied males.”

Don reached out his arm automatically and thumped his father on the back hard enough to stop him choking. Really, was Larry getting less subtle than usual?

“Sorry about that,” Alan gestured, his face pinker than usual. “Bit of bread, down the wrong way, you know.”

“All I said was there’s some aura, or, or pheromone, whatever you like to think of it, that emanates from the male person when he’s—”

“Satisfied,” Charlie supplied, and _there_ was the glance, too quick and just a little too late, but the rush of warmth through the pit of Don’s stomach said all was okay, at least with Charlie.

“—Yes, and women, they can tell.” Larry’s hands flew up higher than usual in a confused gesture. He nodded sadly. “When I was attached, I had offers on a weekly, if not daily basis. Now?”

“Oh, you split? That’s too bad.” If not terribly surprising, and Don had the feeling there was an Eppes family ‘uh huh’ in the silence that followed.

“Yes, well these things happen.” Larry sighed, deeply, then shrugged. “But you know, I was in Professor Dee’s office today, talking over this article in Astronomy Today, and I was on the verge of asking him to help me test it out. I mean, he could do with the help just as much as I could.”

There was a stunned silence for a second, and Don was all ready with the arm again, in case it was needed, but Alan had the glazed look he sometimes favoured when Charlie was feeling particularly expansive, and Don was pretty sure he was reliving last night’s game in his head by now. The polite “Oh, yes,” just about confirmed it.

“Larry.” Charlie leaned forward, and Don watched his fingers tease at his hair uncertainly before he plunged into speech. “Professor Dee has an artificial leg and warts on his chin.”

“As I say, he needs the help.” Larry continued on, apparently oblivious to any concerns. “And he does have a very nice jacuzzi. Maybe I’ll see if he’s free on Friday night.”

“Well.” Charlie reached for another bread roll, and Don grinned into his napkin to see his fingers tremble. “As long as you’ve thought it all through, Larry.”

* * *

Maybe it was the conversation that had left him feeling uneasy, he wasn’t sure, but Don found himself driving back to the house later in the evening instead of towards his apartment.

“Anyone home?” He let the front door slam behind him, and quick footsteps on the stairs told him Charlie was on his way down. He slung his coat over a chair and dumped his case files on the table.

“Dad’s at some talk tonight, he’s not back yet,” said Charlie, hovering in the doorway.

“And did you see Larry off to his warty new sweetheart?” Don wasn’t even sure why he was asking, but there was something niggling at him, and if he didn’t then he wasn’t sure he could walk out of here tonight.

“Oh, uh.” Charlie slouched into the kitchen and made clinking sounds. Nervous clinking sounds, Don couldn’t help thinking. Charlie’s fingers were wet and glistening on the glass of juice when he came back into the light, and Don wondered what he’d spilt on them. Not that, you know, he was thinking of licking it off or anything, but—Charlie’s voice brought him back to the present with a jolt. “Uh, I think I talked him out of dating Professor Dee in the end.”

And yeah, that was it. That was why he was here, there was something… Charlie’s eyes were too fast, shifting around the room yet looking at nothing.

“Yeah? He seemed pretty keen at lunch.” He made himself comfortable on the sofa, and pretended he wasn’t aware of Charlie’s restless eyes or shuffling feet.

“Well, you know what he’s like.”

“I don’t know him as well as you.” And was that a twitch, a nervous glance his way?

“Yeah, I’ve known him a long time.” Charlie took a long drink from his glass, and Don could see his throat convulse, the shiver from the iced drink.

“Practically family,” said Don, his eyes narrowing to a squint.

Charlie didn’t answer that one.

Don wasn’t going to ask. He wasn’t even going to talk around the subject any more, because whatever Larry did, whatever Charlie did—whatever they did _together_ , it was none of his business.

And he didn’t want it to be.

But he couldn’t stay any longer, because it would be too easy to forget, to question and probe, and it would be so easy to get Charlie to talk, because he always could.

“All right, Charlie. Give my love to Dad, and I’ll see you Friday for the game as usual?”

He hadn’t even thought about that, it wasn’t a trap, but the silence behind him made him stop, made him turn. Charlie was still, glass half-raised to his mouth, and eyes wide in the half-light of the dim room.

“Charlie?”

“I—I can’t, not this Friday.”

Don took a step closer before he could help himself. “You can’t?”

“No, I have a—” Charlie seemed to be searching for the right word for a long time; too long for Don’s peace of mind. “Date.”

And then he was backing away, because Don barely even noticed how fast he was moving, but one minute he was in arm’s reach of the door, and the next he was pressing Charlie up against the wall, his fingers tight and hard in Charlie’s shoulder muscles. Charlie’s eyes were wide, and black; so black, they were all pupil and there went the juice that now Don could smell it trickling across the floor was orange, definitely.

“Don.” It was a plea, a plea for calmness, and Don closed his eyes. Deep breath, deep breath. He forced his hand to unclench on Charlie’s shoulder, and tried not to feel it as physical pain when Charlie twisted out from his grasp.

“Don?” That was a plea too, but this time he didn’t know what for, and he couldn’t stay to find out what the fingers plucking at his jacket sleeve were after this time.

“A date,” he said, and tried to think what the words were that should be said in this situation. “That’s great, really great. You have a good time on your date.”

He started for the door again.

“If you don’t want me to—” Charlie started, and Don didn’t wait for the rest, but half-turned, only half-focusing on the hand, the hair, not daring to meet Charlie’s eyes.

“It’s all right, Charlie,” he said, aiming for light-hearted and probably missing, but it was late and he didn’t care. “Whatever you want to do, it’s all right.”

Because after all, Don had no reason to object. It was none of his damn business any more.


End file.
